


Composers Aren't Scared of Lightning

by Lina_Love



Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao
Genre: M/M, Thunder and Lightning, fear of storms, mushy stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 18:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17585975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lina_Love/pseuds/Lina_Love
Summary: A storm in the middle of the night leads Mozart to Salieri.Based off a thunderstorm prompt.





	Composers Aren't Scared of Lightning

Nights within the palace were often very peaceful. The darkness of the outside world brought silence within the halls. Servants were tucked away for the night, and advisors nowhere to be seen. It was gentle, an atmosphere that silently begged out for an artist’s inspiration to come forward. The calm of it all allowing for concentration and the chance to truly harness the music that sat within a person, and it was something that Mozart took full advantage of.

It was easier to write within the candlelit halls. Bright inside the elegance of the palace, though pitch black outside the windows. The notes and rhythms of a song deep in himself easily flowed from his fingers onto empty sheet music as they had every night. It was soothing to his soul, he found true comfort within his work, and he knew in a few hours he would be in the perfect mindset to sleep.

It was simply a night like every other until there was a loud clap of thunder from outside. Jolting just slightly, Mozart dropped his quill. He hadn’t remembered the last time there had been a storm around in the late hours of the night. There was nothing inherently scary about them, logically he knew he would be safe within the walls of the palace, but with the flash of lightning that followed he already found himself standing and leaving his personal workspace.

It was disturbing, and a completely irrational part of his mind screamed that he wasn’t safe. That same part of his mind seemed to be carrying his body in the direction of Salieri’s own chambers, and he couldn’t help the bit of anxiety that rose in his chest. Between the unnatural way the darkness of the night was lit up by random bolts of deadly energy and the fact that his first reaction to the sense of danger, logical or not, was to seek out Antonio Salieri…

Something had to be terribly wrong with him.

He was a grown man, and it was silly for him to succumb to such childish fears. Terrors that should have been hidden away long ago with the thoughts of monsters under his bed and fruits growing in his stomach if he swallowed a seed.

Despite this, he rose his fist to the door and knocked against it. Once, twice, the sound seemingly loud in the large and empty halls despite his attempt to be as gentle as possible.

On the other side of the door sat Salieri, not asleep but not at all busy. He was wide awake with the endless stream of troubling thoughts that never seemed to leave his mind alone. Insomnia was normal for the man, so the knock on his door wasn’t irritating, but it was out of place.

Why would anyone in their right mind want to bother him at this hour?

Making his way to the door, Salieri opened it and he was honestly disappointed in himself for not having assumed that Mozart would be the man behind the disturbance. Who else on God’s green Earth would lack the decency to keep a topic of discussion to themselves until waking hours?

“What do you need, Mozart? It is the middle of the night.” Came the unimpressed tone from the elder composer as he stood straight in the doorway, completely blocking Mozart’s view into the room behind him.

A good question indeed, considering Mozart didn’t quite know the answer to it himself. He knew he couldn’t just come out and say, ‘Hey, I’m scared of the lightning, can I crash at the foot of your bed for the night?’ He’d sound absolutely mental.

...And he must have looked it, if the raised and questioning brow Salieri gave him was anything to go by. His stock silence and nervous fidgeting without a word of explanation as to why he had come to see the court’s composer so late--

“Company?” Came the last minute excuse, the word soft on his lips and lilted in a way he despised since it surely gave away his uncertainty. 

Antonio held Mozart’s stare for several moments, the sheer annoyance and exhaustion never leaving his features as he pondered over what would be worse. Staying up all night alone, or staying up all night with Mozart.

The answer was obvious, but there was something about the way that the younger composer was carrying himself that didn’t sit right with him. Mozart seemed just as full as energy as ever, but it wasn’t restless anymore. There was a nervousness to it that tugged at his forgotten heart strings. If something really was wrong, he didn’t think he’d be able to ignore it in favor of his other alarming thoughts.

So, without a word, he stepped aside. 

Mozart took the silent invitation and made his way into the other composer’s space. It almost felt wrong, like a private area he shouldn’t be allowed in. With how much Salieri kept to himself, it was almost like a special privilege to be able to even see where he slept at night. 

It was intriguing, and Mozart really didn’t expect it to be any other way. Still, while his mind had imagined the entire room to be shrouded in darkness, the only trace of black he could spot was the blankets upon Salieri’s bed. Everything else was so...normal. There was almost no trace of someone living in the room, as if it was as new as it was the day Salieri gained his position within the court.

Sitting himself on the edge of Salieri’s bed, the young composer flinched again upon a particularly loud clap of thunder.

That’s when the dread kicked in, because he knew Antonio was a smart enough man to put two and two together. The knowing look that briefly flashed over Salieri’s face before it was overtaken by stoicness was enough to let Mozart in on the fact that he was doomed.

“Ah...so that’s what this about.” Salieri spoke, moving to his desk and taking a seat. “You’re scared of the storm.”

“Not scared.” Mozart countered, tugging on his sleeves and sending a childish pout in the direction of his darker half. “It’s just unsettling. To see light in the sky at night. The stars and the moon are the only things that should be out there, and the balance is interrupted by it. It makes my heart race. It has ever since I was a child.”

Despite the strangeness of the confession, Salieri couldn’t find it in himself to mock Mozart about this. His ego, his childish and brash behavior were all fair game, but an honest thing he had no control over..? He wasn’t that cruel.

“I am not entirely sure why you have decided to come to me for this, Mozart, but if you’re looking for comfort I’m afraid I am not the man you should have sought out. If you wish, though, you may sleep here for the night. The bed may as well get some use tonight.” Salieri spoke, lifting a book from his desk and thumbing through the pages to the get to the spot he had left off on.

Somewhat relieved with the permission and go ahead for something he hadn’t even known he’d wanted, Mozart allowed himself to lay back onto the bed. It was soft, entirely too much so and if he weren’t as tired as he was from the anxiety that came with the storm, he wouldn’t be able to sleep on it otherwise. 

Regardless, as soon as his head made contact with the pillow, he couldn’t deny the wave of exhaustion that swept over him. There was just something about the warmth of being within Salieri’s presence that set his mind and body at ease.

“You're not sleeping tonight?” Questioned the blond as he rolled onto his side, nuzzling his head against the pillow as he made himself comfortable.

“I am afraid I never get more than an hour or so in at a time, I am more than willing to be productive instead of being restless if it means someone gets a use out of that bed.” Salieri said, eyes never leaving the pages of his book. “Go to sleep, Mozart. I won’t leave until the storm clears or the sun rises.”

“...Goodnight, then. And thank you for your hospitality.” Mozart said before he allowed his eyes to fall shut.

With neither composer speaking, the only sound that filled the room was quiet breathing, the occasional turning of a page, or a clap of thunder outside. Each clap of thunder brought Mozart back from the brink of sleep, but eventually the blond was able to find his way out of the conscious world and into the next. Peaceful finally, despite the storm raging on outside.

Noticing the way Mozart’s breathing had evened out, Salieri finally looked up from his book, and the sight before him did something to warm his cold, dead heart. 

There Mozart was, on top of the blankets and sheet, shoes still on and his body curled up in a ball on his side, fast asleep without a care in the world.

None of the previous nerves and fear was twisting up the composer’s face, and he looked at peace. Somehow, even more so than he normally did when he was awake. 

Standing up from his desk, Salieri made his way to Mozart’s, lifting the throw blanket that was neatly folded at the foot of the bed for colder nights. Unfolding the soft material, he draped it around Mozart’s sleeping form, gently tucking in the sides so the blond wouldn’t knock it off during his sleep.

With the knowledge that Mozart wouldn’t be cold that night, he made his way back to his desk and turned his eyes back to his book, muttering a quiet, ‘Goodnight, Wolfgang,’ before he let himself be dragged back into his reading.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/Kudos are appreciated, guys! <3


End file.
